His harsh words stung deeply. Mark, she observed, partied whenever the inclination struck him, but her personal freedom? It had vanished, seemingly overnight. Even when she was heavy with child, pregnant with Lily, he would routinely stay out late into the night, leaving her utterly alone in their quiet home. Following Lily’s birth, his suffocating control intensified dramatically. Eleanor, during her maternity leave, took on various freelance copyediting assignments, meticulously polishing reports for local businesses, a desperate attempt to help make ends meet. But Mark utterly dismissed her concerted efforts, vehemently insisting that he was the sole provider for their family. Her profound sacrifices—assisting her parents, diligently caring for Lily—seemed to hold absolutely no significance to him.
When her father, Robert, became gravely ill, Eleanor dedicated every conceivable spare moment to being by his side. He was her steadfast confidant, her unwavering hero. Mark, however, resented this profound connection, accusing her of deliberately neglecting him. His emotional outbursts grew increasingly terrifying, and she began to genuinely fear that he might escalate to physical violence, particularly in Lily’s vulnerable presence.
Her mother, Martha, persistently urged her to remain with Mark.
— He is her father, Eleanor. You chose him. You simply must make it work.
But Eleanor’s well of patience had finally run completely dry. Mark’s relentless jealousy, his constant, arbitrary restrictions, and his incessant criticism were slowly but surely suffocating her spirit. When she tentatively broached the subject of divorce, he exploded in a terrifying fit of rage, adamantly refusing to allow her to leave. Their arguments escalated dramatically, and she instinctively knew that remaining in such a toxic environment was undeniably perilous.
Her parents, to her immense disappointment, sided with Mark, genuinely worried that she would be incapable of raising Lily independently. But Robert, in his precious final days, imparted a profound strength that resonated deeply within her.
— Listen to your heart, he had told her, his voice weak but resolute. — If Mark isn’t truly right for you, then leave. Don’t waste your invaluable life on regrets.
Those poignant words became her enduring mantra. Against her mother’s vehement protests, Eleanor resolutely filed for divorce, carefully packed their essential belongings, and, with Lily by her side, courageously moved to Chicago, passionately chasing the promise of a fresh, unburdened start.
Now, the very concept of love felt like a distant, unattainable dream. Mark’s profound betrayal had left an indelible scar upon her heart. As she gently tucked Lily into bed that night, her daughter’s innocent voice softly broke the comforting silence.
— Mom, are you going to work in a really big office?
— I certainly hope so, sweetie, Eleanor said, tenderly brushing a stray strand of hair from Lily’s forehead. — Today’s interview was unfortunately postponed, but I will definitely try again very soon.
— If you genuinely desire it, they’ll definitely choose you! Lily declared with unshakeable confidence.
— I think so too, Eleanor chuckled softly.
— I have a wonderful dream, Mom, Lily murmured, stifling a small yawn. — I envision us at an ice cream shop, savoring delicious sundaes together.
— That, my dear, is an incredibly easy dream to fulfill, Eleanor laughed warmly. — Once I secure a job, we’ll visit the ice cream shop every single weekend.
Lily offered a sleepy grin and then peacefully drifted off to sleep. Eleanor sat quietly beside her, a pang of guilt gnawing at her. She couldn’t even afford a simple $3 sundae right now. She despised the feeling of disappointing Lily.
The following morning, Eleanor awoke considerably early, filled with a renewed determination to make the day truly count. She expertly whipped up a batch of fluffy pancakes, utilizing the last of their milk—Lily’s absolute favorite breakfast treat. Their apartment was undeniably modest, yet it was abundantly filled with love, and that, she firmly believed, mattered more than anything else.
Following breakfast, they enjoyed a leisurely stroll to a nearby playground, Lily’s infectious giggles echoing as she joyfully splashed in a small fountain. Eleanor watched her daughter, her resolve hardening with each passing moment. Leaving Springfield had unequivocally been the correct decision. Back there, Mark would have relentlessly hounded her, and Martha would have ceaselessly pressured her to reconcile. Here, in this vast city, she held complete control over her own destiny.
Eleanor knew remarkably little about her father’s side of the family. Robert had occasionally mentioned that his parents had strongly disapproved of his marriage to Martha, subsequently severing all contact after the wedding. Eleanor didn’t even know if her paternal grandparents were still alive, but she had always harbored a quiet longing to meet them, to truly comprehend their untold story.
That evening, she meticulously prepared for her rescheduled interview. This, she recognized, was her singular opportunity. Failure was simply not an option—her bank account was perilously close to being entirely empty. She chose to walk to the bus stop to conserve precious fare money, her stomach churning with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.
At the corporate office, she took a seat in the waiting area, feeling subtly out of place amidst the impeccably tailored suits and polished briefcases of the other candidates. She nervously smoothed the fabric of her simple blouse, a wave of self-doubt briefly washing over her. A young, cheerful receptionist checked her name off a list and then gestured toward a nearby door.
— You’re next, the woman said with a welcoming smile.
Eleanor rose, took a deep, fortifying breath, and walked into the office. Behind a massive, executive desk sat an older man. Her jaw slackened in utter disbelief—it was Arthur, the very man she had helped on the street just two days prior.
— Hi, I’m here for the interview, she managed to say, her voice noticeably shaky with surprise.
Arthur’s face instantly lit up with genuine delight.
— No way—it’s actually you! he exclaimed, his tone brimming with incredulity. — What an incredible coincidence!
— Yeah, it’s me, she laughed, a wave of immediate relaxation washing over her. — How are you feeling now?
— Much better, especially seeing you, he said warmly, a genuine smile gracing his features.
— Good to hear, she responded, her remaining nerves finally easing away. — So, about the job…
— You’re here for the assistant manager role? Arthur asked, genuinely incredulous. — How has someone as kind and sharp as you not been snapped up by now?
Eleanor blushed, a faint flicker of hope igniting within her. Arthur, she sensed, seemed genuinely kind.
— May I see your resume? he requested, then a wide grin spread across his face. — Though, honestly, I’d hire you on the spot without even looking.
Her heart soared with exultation. She envisioned celebrating this monumental news with Lily over a generous helping of ice cream. But as Arthur quickly skimmed her resume, his expression underwent a dramatic transformation. He visibly paled, his hand gripping the edge of the desk for support.
— Is everything alright? she asked, her concern immediately piqued.
— You lived on Maple Street in Springfield? he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
— Yeah, why? she replied, utterly bewildered by his sudden change.
Arthur deliberately poured a glass of water, drank it in one swift gulp, and then took a deep, measured breath.
— Eleanor, are you… my granddaughter?
— What? She stared at him, utterly dumbfounded, unable to process his words.
— Robert… he was my son. Your father. I am your grandfather, he revealed, his voice thick with emotion, visibly cracking.
Eleanor froze, every fiber of her being struggling to comprehend his staggering revelation. He then produced an old, faded photograph from his briefcase—a picture of a young boy, unmistakably identical to a cherished photograph of her father she kept at home.